


It's cold in space

by StarryKnight09



Series: Febuwhump 2021 [18]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: FebuWhump2021, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:22:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29566050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryKnight09/pseuds/StarryKnight09
Summary: “I was thinking the view’s to die for.” He gestured out at the stars.  “Literally.”  He smiled and let out another borderline hysterical laugh.Mr. Stark’s face crumpled and Peter instantly regretted being so honest.“Sorry.”Febuwhump Day 19: sleep deprivation
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Febuwhump 2021 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138670
Comments: 9
Kudos: 150





	It's cold in space

The stars shone brightly twinkling outside the windows of the Benatar. More stars than Peter could even imagine, some coalescing to form beautiful swirls that danced together, becoming denser and brighter in the center as they created galaxies so close it was like he could almost reach out and touch them. Great nebulas composed of luminescent dust and other bright orbs in shades of red and green and orange were scattered as far as the eye could see. Peter knew the colorful spots were planets. Other worlds, maybe some with alien life. Beings he had no idea even existed a month ago. And now he’d fought alongside some of them. Watched them die.

He shivered thinking about the disaster on Titan. The way the Guardians had faded away into nothing. Instead of falling into a downward spiral ruminating over it again, he focused on the engine humming beneath him, the only sound in the middle of the night as everyone else slept. Well, as Tony and Nebula slept. The only other two who had survived Titan. For a moment Peter had been worried he’d been about to turn to dust like the others, his spider sense screaming at him as he clung desperately to Mr. Stark, too afraid to care that he was acting like the kid he was. But it’d passed, and in the end, he’d been left standing stranded on an alien planet along with Mr. Stark. And Nebula. Thank god for her or he had no clue what they would’ve done. She’d led them to Quill’s ship and they’d started the journey back to Earth.

Any other time he would’ve been freaking out in excitement over being in space, but if Thanos hadn’t been enough to put a damper on the mood, then the whole limping home while slowly running out of food, water, and air thing had definitely done it. He brought his knees up to his chest and hugged them as another shiver ran through him. They’d been traveling for two weeks and no matter what they’d tried, they hadn’t been able to make the engines to go any faster. At the rate they were going, there was no way they’d make it home before the oxygen ran out. It put the constant pangs in his gut into perspective. It didn’t matter that he was slowly starving. He’d suffocate long before the lack of food killed him.

Mr. Stark had no idea Peter had worked it all out. That this entire trip was a doomed farce. Usually he’d be mad at his mentor for keeping something like this from him, but this time he understood. Mr. Stark still smiled and joked and acted like everything was fine. And Peter let him, because he didn’t want to talk about it either. Didn’t want to admit he knew, because admitting it would make it real, and then he’d have to face it. So for now, he just tried not to think about it even as the knowledge gnawed incessantly at the back of his mind.

Maybe it’d be for the best. If he died here, he’d never have to face the possibility that May might have been in the fifty percent of the population that’d been dusted. Then again, maybe she was alive, his mind always whispered traitorously. After all, there was an equal chance that she was still there, waiting for him. Whenever he imagined making it home, which had been happening less and less, he clung to that likelihood instead. It was a nice dream.

In the beginning he really had tried to hold onto the hope that maybe they’d make it. Maybe they’d somehow figure something out or someone would come save them. But as the days had passed, his hope had faded, along with the warmth in the cabin. He knew they weren’t going to make it home. At least he had the small comfort of knowing how he was going to die. Most people didn’t get that. And he had some time to come to terms with it. A lot of people didn’t get that either. And overall, running out of oxygen wasn’t such a bad way to go. It’d be relatively painless. Like falling asleep.

His teeth chattered. They’d siphoned as much power as possible from every possible system into the engines, including the environmental systems, which meant Peter had been absolutely miserable the past few days. He’d hidden it from Mr. Stark. It hadn’t been so bad during the day when he had things to do to distract him, but the nights were nearly unbearable. He’d tried layering Quill’s clothes that Nebula had given him and curling up under the threadbare quilt but it hadn’t helped. He’d spent the last couple nights shaking with cold and barely sleeping, drifting in and out. But tonight he couldn’t take it anymore, so he’d tiptoed out of his room to retreat to one of the chairs at the front of the ship. At least he couldn’t complain about the view. It was to die for. He snorted and let out short laugh. It really was. 

“Care to share with the class what’s so funny?” Mr. Stark’s question broke the silence.

Peter jumped. He hadn’t heard the other man sneak up on him. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened, and he didn’t think it was a good thing, but he didn’t have the energy to examine that train of thought much further.

“So?” Mr. Stark prompted.

Oh right. He wanted to know what Peter had found funny. Peter knew he should lie, but the lack of sleep had eroded his filter and he was tired, oh so tired, of silently carrying the burden of their fate alone.

“I was thinking the view’s to die for.” He gestured out at the stars. “Literally.” He smiled and let out another borderline hysterical laugh.

Mr. Stark’s face crumpled and Peter instantly regretted being so honest.

“Sorry.”

Mr. Stark sighed as he stepped forward to drop a hand on his shoulder. “So you know.”

“Of course I know.” He said. “You’re the one always saying how smart I am. You really didn’t think I’d figure it out?”

“I’d hoped you wouldn’t.” Mr. Stark said. “But you’re right. I should’ve known better.”

Peter sighed, staring out at the stars. “It doesn’t matter. Knowing doesn’t change anything.”

Mr. Stark hummed and followed his gaze out at the stars. “It is a hell of a view.”

“Yeah. I suppose there are worse places to die.” Peter whispered.

Mr. Stark’s head bent forward, looking as if the words had caused him physical pain. Maybe they had. The gash in his side still hadn’t healed, and although he wasn’t in any danger of dying from it, it wasn’t a minor wound.

“Don’t lose hope yet kid.” Mr. Stark squeezed his shoulder.

Peter looked up at him and frowned. He’d never considered his mentor an overly optimistic person.

“It’s not over until it’s over.” Mr. Stark continued. “I’ve been in my fair share of tight binds and somehow I always seem to come out on top.”

“Worse than this?” Peter arched an eyebrow at him.

Mr. Stark considered it for a few seconds before nodding. “Maybe not worse, but some just as bad. And here I am, still kicking.”

Peter gave him a wan smile. “That’s comforting.”

Mr. Stark nodded. “It is.”

Peter wished he could find some solace in his mentor’s words, but he couldn’t. Their situation seemed fairly hopeless unless some kind of miracle occurred, and after the luck he’d had in his life, Peter no longer put any stock in miracles.

“So, is that why you’re out here?” Mr. Stark asked when Peter didn’t pick up the conversation again. “The view?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“I know the beds aren’t the most comfortable but—”

“That’s not why.” Peter shook his head, although it was more than a little weird to be sleeping in a dead man’s bed.

“Ok, then what’s the deal?”

“It’s too cold.” He admitted.

Mr. Stark stared at him like he didn’t understand. 

“After I got my powers, I noticed I was more sensitive to temperature.” He explained with a shrug. “I get cold or hot really easily compared to before. Ever since we diverted the environmental system’s power to the engines, I haven’t really been able to sleep.”

“That was three days ago.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re just mentioning this now?”

“It’s not like it matters. You can’t do anything about it. The engines need all the power we can give them.”

“Kid.” Mr. Stark sighed, sounding put out. “We could’ve thought of something else.” 

Peter scoffed. “Like what? I’m pretty sure I’ve thought of everything.” He gestured to all the layers of clothes he had on. 

“Well I don’t think you have, because I have an idea.” 

“Really?” Peter didn’t even care if Mr. Stark had a solution he hadn’t thought of. He just wanted to be able to sleep. Which in retrospect seemed silly since pretty soon he’d be dead and he’d get all the sleep he wanted. But he couldn’t help it. While still alive, his body craved rest.

“Really. Come on.” Mr. Stark gave his head a sideways jerk to indicate they should go. Peter uncurled from the chair and stood, allowing the other man to guide him back down the corridor toward their rooms, but instead of leading him back to Quill’s room, Mr. Stark led him to the room where he’d been staying.

Peter stopped up short just past the threshold, not understanding. 

“Get in kid.” Mr. Stark said, pointing to the bed.

Peter tried to hide his disappointment but did as his mentor said. If Mr. Stark thought his bed was warmer than he owed it to him to at least try it even though he didn't think it would work. He realized the mistake of his assumption a second later when Mr. Stark crawled in the other side of the bed. 

“Um what are you doing?” He asked with wide eyes. The bed wasn’t tiny, but it was smaller than a queen size. Two adults sharing would be more than a little crowded.

“Conserving body heat.” Mr. Stark explained as he rolled Peter over, wrapped his arms around him, and pulled the covers up over both of them.

Peter’s cheeks flushed. In the years he’d known Mr. Stark, they’d definitely gotten closer and he was almost starting to view him as a sort of father figure, but he had no idea what the man thought of him. Mr. Stark still avoided showing emotion or affection whenever possible, so this was definitely uncharted territory.

“Uh I didn’t think we were there yet.” He joked, trying desperately to dispel the extreme awkwardness that'd befallen him.

“Don’t make it weird.” Mr. Stark ordered. 

“Ok.” He stared at the opposite wall wondering if it wouldn’t be lack of oxygen after all, but absolute mortification, that would kill him.

“Are you still cold?” Mr. Stark asked after a few long minutes had passed.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t. The incessant shivering had dissipated. It was the first time in days that he wasn't freezing. 

“No.” He sighed in relief.

“Good.” Mr. Stark let out his own sigh and it tickled Peter’s hair. “Then go to sleep. And agree to never speak of this.”

“Right. Of course. Never.” He readily agreed before closing his eyes, and even though they were probably still going to die, he felt oddly safe at the moment, and that feeling combined with the fact that he was no longer uncomfortably cold, let sleep come easily.

**Author's Note:**

> Annnnd we all know they don't die because Captain Marvel comes and saves them. Yay!
> 
> Come hit me up on [Tumblr!](https://starryknight09.tumblr.com/)


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